


It Happened One Night

by TristansGirl



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TristansGirl/pseuds/TristansGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a werewolf story . . .  my take</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Happened One Night

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly not sure if there will be more to this. For now, this is the end. We shall see

Adam loves walking around the city at night.

He’s always been a night owl, but more so ever since he became Pack. It feels freeing to walk under the moon, to breathe in the city’s air and feel the rush of the wind against his hair.

Right now, he’s walking around in what is considered to be one of the worst neighborhoods in the city. He, like most level-headed people, used to be afraid of these neighborhoods and their denizens, but not anymore. If anything, they should be afraid of him.

Not that he goes looking for trouble. He merely walks. It gives him a sense of power, knowing that he can go anywhere and be safe. He only fights if someone starts a fight with him. He only ever defends himself.

Tonight is a slow night, only 11:00 pm on a Thursday. Street traffic is limited to only small groups of people, men mostly, huddled together against the cold.

Adam stuffs his hands in his pockets and turns a corner. It’s quieter in this section. There are less people and it’s more ominous. More to his liking.

He’s been walking for a few minutes when his ears catch a noise. He stops, straining to listen. After another second he hears it again. He recognizes the sound this time. He’s lived in Los Angeles all his life, he knows a gunshot when he hears it.

He begins to run in the direction of the shots, his long legs and adrenaline getting him there within a matter of a couple of minutes.

He skids to a halt in front of a deserted alleyway. The smell of blood is so strong here, the same scent that he’s been following for nearly a full minute.

It’s easy enough to see that whatever happened here is over and he senses no danger to himself at all. He begins to walk into the alley, walking toward what looks like a figure lying on the ground by the back wall. The smell of blood is almost overwhelming now and he has to take a moment to try to clear his head of it. He wipes a hand across his mouth, disgusted to find that he is drooling.

“Are you ok?” he calls out. His foot bumps against something on the ground. He looks down and sees that it’s a guitar case. He wonders if it belongs to the person splayed out on the dirty concrete.

Two more steps and he’s kneeling down next to the figure. It’s dark, but the streetlights and his own vision let him see just fine.

It’s a man. He’s young and he’s clad in jeans and a hoodie, his blond hair messily obscuring half of his face. The hair is only long on one side, the other is shorn nearly to the scalp, affording Adam a view of his face when he turns his head to moan.

Adam knows that he probably shouldn’t be focusing on looks right now, but he can’t seem to help it. The man is very, very pretty.

And he’s also very, very hurt. He’s drenched in his own blood, the wounds hidden behind the hoodie. Adam gently unzips it, gasping when he sees one bullet wound in the man’s stomach, the other in the middle of his chest.

A mugging, Adam guesses. But what was this guy doing in this neighborhood, of all places?

The man looks at him, wide brown eyes so terribly frightened. “Please,” he says, choking on that one word. “Help me.”

Adam strokes the man’s hair and pulls out his cell phone. “You’re going to be all right. You just need to hang on, ok?”

The man nods and coughs, blood splattering from his mouth against his lips and chin. Adam helps him turn his head to the side, afraid that the guy is going to choke on his own blood.

What does it mean when that happens? A punctured lung? Whatever it is, Adam knows that coughing up blood isn’t good a good sign.

He’s just about to dial 911 when something stops him. All this time he’s been smelling the man’s blood and his fear, both of them palpable things. But now, there’s something else. Something just below the surface. It’s getting stronger though, exponentially stronger until it overwhelms everything.

A moment later, Adam recognizes it.

It’s the smell of death.

Adam doesn’t know how he knows this, he just does. He looks down, sees that the guy’s eyes are closed now, his chest barely rising and falling.

Adam knows that he’ll be dead in less than five minutes. There’s no possible way that an ambulance will get here in time. No possible way.

He hesitates, counting the passing seconds in his head. He could call, and the man will be dead by the time that help arrives.

Or he could . . .

But no. That’s rule number two of the pack. Right behind ‘Don’t eat people’.

‘You do not make someone Pack without both their permission and Father’s permission.’

Adam can’t believe that he’s even considering it, especially after what happened with Christina, what she did to him.

Another low cough from the man triggers Adam’s attention. It’s only been a few seconds since Adam pulled out his phone to call 911, but it might as well have been hours. The man is dying.

Now.

He’s literally dying now and Adam can’t afford to waste any more time. He leans down and grabs the collar of the man’s t-shirt, pulling it down and to the side to expose his shoulder.

He allows himself to change. Not all the way of course, that isn’t necessary. It’s enough to allow his teeth to lengthen and sharpen. He knows that his eyes are changing as well, their color going from blue to gold.

His jaw widens and lengthens as well, allowing for his new teeth. He opens his mouth, stretching it before sinking his teeth into the meat of the man’s shoulder.

Adam is tempted to bite and chew; the man’s taste is so sweet. Despite the cloud of death clinging to him, the meat itself is sweet, but he manages to pull away, retracting his fangs and allowing himself to change back.

He’s just putting the man’s clothing back in order when he hears the faint sounds of sirens in the distance.

So someone called the police. He supposes that that’s a good thing, but it means that he needs to move quickly.

He grabs the man and hefts him onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

The man weighs next to nothing, so it’s no hardship to hold him. Of course, Adam’s superior strength helps as well, and he’s running before the sirens can get much closer.

He runs down street after street until he reaches his car. He unlocks it quickly and lays the man down in the backseat with care. He cringes at the thought of the blood on the upholstery but there’s not much he can do about it. He can’t take the man to the hospital and he can’t just leave him here.

He’s one of them now, the change already beginning. According to the laws of the pack, this man, this stranger, is now Adam’s responsibility.

So Adam does the only thing he can do. He drives the man home.


End file.
